


take me home, show me the sun

by dizzyondreams



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, jean's a Rich Boy + eren's a lowkey gutter rat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I said I was sorry.” Eren murmured, trying to look as earnest as possible. “Honestly, it was a punch thrown with pure intentions.”</p>
<p>Jean shot him a disbelieving look. “How pure can a punch be?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	take me home, show me the sun

It had begun as most nights do, or at least, how most nights do when you’re Eren.

Maybe just one beer more than he should have drunk, or maybe it was the tequila Reiner kept sliding down the bar to him; tequila never went down well with Eren. Some obnoxious comment about Armin’s dress thrown their way, and Eren was lurching with very little coordination out of his seat, and with the tequila in his veins singing, he aimed a rather sloppy punch into the face of the offending asshole.

Oh, wait, wrong guy.

That was how Eren found himself in the A&E at 3am, sitting next to a stranger whose nose he’d broken. Eren found himself to be sobering up, too, which was the least of his problems. The guy’s name was Jean, and Eren had felt a strong sense of responsibility for him since, y’know, he’d punched him in the face and all.

Jean made an unpleasant sound through his nose, which has stopped bleeding by now but looked rather painful to Eren’s practised eye.

“Probably broken.” He muttered, just to fill the slightly uncomfortable silence. A nurse walked past, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor, and Jean glanced up to give Eren a stinking look.

“What?” He asked, voice thick and nasal from his swollen nose. Eren cleared his throat, crossed and uncrossed his arms, gestured to his own nose.

“Your nose,” He flapped his hand vaguely. “Probably broken.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Jean said, and went back to studying the floor between his feet moodily. 

“I’m sorry.” Eren offered, for the hundredth time that night since his drunken, well-meaning fist had connected solidly with the wrong guy’s face. “Honestly, I wasn’t aiming for you.”

“Whatever.” He grunted, and they lapsed into silence again, Jean leaning back in his chair and letting his head drop back with a sigh. Eren decided it probably wasn’t the right time to tell him about his theory regarding broken noses and blood clots to the brain. He cleared his throat and settled in for a long night.

The A&E was busy, the usual crowd of scrapings from the bar floor, clutching bleeding faces not unlike Jean’s. A harried looking woman bounced a baby on her lap, murmuring to it as it began to cry. An old man handed a coffee to his wife, who smiled at him sweetly before taking it. Eren felt kinda barfy, supposed it was the tequila’s fault.

He glanced across at Jean, who looked like he’d fallen asleep right where he was sitting. Eren knew that was impossible, considering the hellishly uncomfortable chairs they were sitting him, but shook him anyway.

“What?” Jean asked again, sounding more irritable as he cracked open one eye to glare at Eren.

“You can’t go to sleep, man.” Eren reminded him, and tapped his finger to his forehead. “Might have a concussion.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Jean asked, sliding sulkily down in his chair a little and pulling his jacket sleeves over his hands. Eren thought it was a cute gesture, and caught himself feeling fond before Jean made that gross noise in the back of throat again. Jesus, disgusting. 

“I said I was sorry.” Eren murmured, trying to look as earnest as possible. “Honestly, it was a punch thrown with pure intentions.”

Jean shot him a disbelieving look. “How pure can a punch be?”

“I was defending my friend.” Eren said, a little offended his character had been called into question like that. Eren was like an avenging angel of the bar scene, throwing punches to protect his friends virtue. Or at least, that’d how he liked to describe himself. 

Jean still looked unconvinced, made this little snuffling noise through his nose. Eren caught himself feeling fond again, which was weird, considering Jean had maybe half a foot on him and was covered in blood. But hey, sue him, Eren had a thing for tall, skinny guys, and Jean was as tall and skinny as they came. He tried for a winning smile, but judging by Jean’s expression, he probably just looked a little manic.

“Are you still drunk?” Jean asked, and Eren noticed that the bruising had started to come out already, green and blue against his pale skin, washed out by the fluorescent lighting of the waiting room. He was gonna have some impressive black eyes tomorrow.

“I don’t know.” Eren said truthfully, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his head back against the wall. “Are you?”

“Getting your nose broken kinda sobers you up, if you can believe it.” Jean muttered, and Eren made a wounded noise. 

“Maybe if your face hadn’t been in the way, I wouldn’t have hit you.” He murmured, regarding Jean carefully. It was such a shame Eren had broken his nose, in retrospect. It looked like a good one, nice and long and straight, in proportion with all his sharp features. Jean scowled and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been throwing blind punches.” He countered, and just when Eren had opened his mouth to reply a nurse called out for Jean, who rose from his seat gratefully.

“I’ll wait here!” Eren called after him, and gave him a double thumbs up when Jean turned and shot him a confused look. “I’ll be right here!” He pointed to the seat he was in, and settled back after Jean shrugged and walked away.

The chair really was uncomfortable, but beer always made Eren sleepy, and he could feel his eyes drooping not minutes after Jean left. He considered the shitty instant coffee machine across the room but gave it up for a loss when he looked in his wallet and found it a little light in the cash department. Guess he’d spent more than he thought on drinks that night. He hoped Jean had enough for a taxi ride, because Eren sure didn’t.

He dozed off somewhere in the middle of his current Angry Birds game on his phone, and woke to someone shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

“Mmfph.” Eren said eloquently, and groaned when he sat up and a sharp pang of pain travelled down his neck as he stretched out the kinks in his muscles. “Fuck.” He muttered. Hospitals chairs did not make a comfortable bed, it turned out.

“Y’know, I don’t know why, but I was surprised to see you still waiting here.” A substantially less bloody Jean was looking down at him, and Eren just sighed and mussed his hands through his hair. 

“I guess I’m just too loyal to believe.” Eren mumbled, grinding the heel of his palm into his eye. He could feel his hangover coming on now, and his brain ached, that dehydration throb. Eren was suddenly glad he hadn’t had the money for coffee.

Jean just laughed, and Eren squinted distrustfully up at him. “Did you just laugh?” Jean pressed his lips together, amused. His nose was swollen and bruised, and Eren felt the corner of his own lips quirk up. “Did they replace your brain back there? I haven’t heard you laugh once.” He reached up to touch Jean’s face, as if he was checking he was real. Jean batted his hands away, trying and failing to not look amused.

“Get off me, you’ve only known me for like three hours, you can’t go making snap judgements re: my ability to laugh, y’know.” He caught one of Eren’s wrists and held his hands away from his face. “Please don’t touch the merchandise.” He muttered seriously, that spark of laughter on his lips. 

“Kinda beat merch.” Eren muttered, twisting his wrist in Jean’s grasp until he dropped it. He heaved himself to his feet with a yawn, his wrist tingling from the memory of Jean’s fingers.

“The merchandise is normally a lot better looking than this.” Jean assured him, falling into step beside him and touching his nose gingerly. 

“I believe you.” Eren said thoughtlessly, thinking about the line of Jean’s jaw and the arch to his cheekbones. He considered it for a second. “I’m normally a lot less rough looking too, I promise.”

“I’d hope so.” Jean said with a laugh as they stepped out into the hospital car park, Eren shivering at the cold and pulling his thin jacket tighter around himself. “How’re you gonna get home.”

“Figured I’d hop in your taxi and sleep on your couch.” Eren said honestly, squinting around in the dark.

“Oh, what, you’ve levelled up to ‘sleeping on my couch buddy’ all of a sudden?” Jean laughed and took a step away from Eren, headed towards the main road. 

“I mean, I cook a mean bacon sandwich.” Eren bargained, jogging a little to catch up. Jean had probably the longest legs in the world, and didn’t seem to be planning on slowing down for Eren any time soon. “Plus, I wanna see how bad your face bruises by tomorrow. I take pride in my punches.”

Jean scoffed. “It wasn’t even broken, tough guy.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. “Put it this way, I’m gonna call for a taxi, and right now I feel too much pity for you to not let you sleep off your hangover on my couch, so.” He put his phone to his ear, and Eren grinned at him and bumped his shoulder against his. Sure, like, it wasn’t the conventional sort of going home with a hot guy that Eren was used to but he couldn’t afford to be picky. Not when it came to Jean, who looked like he’d stepped out of some French fashion magazine, from his cheekbones down to his (albeit blood spotted) Louboutin boots. Those shoes cost more than Eren’s car, plus his whole wardrobe and all of his earthly belongings. He was finding himself on that delicate line between star struck and lusting.

“I would be honoured to crash on your couch.” Eren said when Jean hung up, and grinned when Jean laughed and then winced, hand flying to his nose. “And I’ll make it up to you for the whole…nose deal. Ruined night, blood on your shoes etc.”

“Sounds good.” Jean grunted, hand still cupped over his face as they waited for their taxi to come. “You need to repay the loss of my beauty as well as a night sleeping on my couch so, what, that averages out to a date?”

Eren did a double take. His hungover mind worked sluggishly as he gaped at Jean’s profile, lit by the yellow glow of a streetlamp. “Date?” He said stupidly. Jean seemed to be trying to look aloof, but his ears looked suspiciously red. The back of his neck too.

“I mean, only if-“

“You’re asking me on a date after I punched you in the face?” Eren cried, leaning in front of him and waving a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Did they give you too many pain meds in there?” 

“I was actually like seconds away from hitting on you when you went and took me out.” Jean muttered, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. Eren gaped at him, brain working so hard he could practically feel the cogs working. Then he relaxed, rocked back on his heels and stuck his hand out. Jean looked at him in askance.

“Fine.” Eren said, wiggling his hand. “A date for ruining your undoubtedly smooth move on me. Shake on it.”

“I’ll ask you again when you don’t have like a litre of tequila in you.” Jean sighed, but shook his hand anyway. His grasp was steady and strong, and Eren felt himself melting a little in the general knee area.

The taxi turned up a few minutes later, and soon Eren found himself curled up on Jean’s rather collapsed old couch. He was wearing an old t-shirt of Jean’s, and it smelt pleasant and expensive, like the whiff of his aftershave Eren had caught earlier that night. Head swimming, he drifted off as he listened to the birds start to wake up outside the window, the sun shining watery fingers of light into the room and across the lump of his sleeping form.

**Author's Note:**

> ty to tumblr user nixiad for the prompt!! + hope u enjoyed!
> 
> title from hometown by twenty one pilots


End file.
